


This Smile Would be the Last

by WeirdoWitchOfTheWest



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Character Death, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Ouch, Sad Carlos, Sad Ending, Science, Sheriff's Secret Police
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:50:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdoWitchOfTheWest/pseuds/WeirdoWitchOfTheWest
Summary: If he were in Old Town Night Vale, he would surely hear the screams of the sun as he fell. But no- it is silent in Radon Canyon today. The world is warm, but it is cold- as if Night Vale does not want him to go, but does not want to force him to stay.





	This Smile Would be the Last

Carlos looked out over Radon canyon, dust moving through the depths, endlessly swirling in a chaotic and controlled pattern. The canyon was quiet- he could hear his heartbeat. Although-  he was sure the Sheriff's Secret Police could too, so maybe that didn't really say much.

Filler thoughts on his surroundings flit through his head, scientific measurements and notes.  _ The canyon seems to be roughly 20 to 25 kilometers wide. Despite the dust and overall unclear air, I can still see the other side. Is this my eyesight, having adapted to Night Vale's air? Or is this something in the Night Vale dust? Unnatural properties of the canyon itself? _

Aside from the small thoughts, there was one thought in the forefront of his mind that all the filler thoughts were trying to cover up. His entire being recognized that said thought would have negative consequences, and so avoided the thought at all costs- the filler thoughts a white blood cell to the gigantic bacterial disease that was that thing he was trying not to think about.

Unfortunately, Carlos had never had the best immune system.

_ Cecil is dead. _

He hadn't adjusted to the thought yet.

If he had any say in it, he would never have to at all. Dead people didn't concern themselves with adjustion- they were too busy dying, right? That seemed like the best way to go here.

Deciding to do some tests while he was here, he put down his bag, withdrawing a standard kitchen spoon- with holes drilled in the handle for no apparent reason- and a small plastic container that had an unexplained green stain on several parts of it.

He spooned some of the dust from Radon canyon into the container, dust sloppily falling on either side and getting underneath his fingernails. This was not a normal expedition.

Pocketing the dust and slipping it back in his bag, he looked around on the ground till he spotted a rock. He picked it up, ignoring the moisture blurring his eyes as he unceremoniously threw it into the canyon.

He didn't know whether he couldn't hear the stone hit the canyon floor because of the ringing in his ears, or if the stone never hit the floor at all.

He took several deep breaths, and to his surprise, the dust in the air didn't irritate his lungs. He did not cough. In fact, the dust seemed to clear his sinuses a touch- which was, in a way, irritating in itself. Feeling better was not in his hypothesis for this kind of experience.

Taking another wet, rasping breath, he took out a notebook- this was the most important if the tests, after all. Documentation was a must.

Cecil would probably gasp as if he had done something horrendous, when really he was just holding a ballpoint pen. Really going out with a bang, huh?

_ Hypothesis: a dramatic tragedy to the Night Vale town, a more significant one than their usual tragedies, has occurred. The Voice of Night Vale is deceased. _

At that line, a few tears dropped on to the paper, but he continued writing.

_ At the obliteration of the town's most important piece, perhaps the base functions- such as gravity- may be acting up more than usual. _

He didn't want to write the materials or trials or anything. He didn't want anything.

_ That's a lie. You want him back. _

Of course he did, he loved Cecil-  _ and I fell in love instantly. _

Ignoring his raging mind, he collected himself enough to write the procedure.

_ Procedure _

_ Step one: step off the cliff. _

He put the notebook down, writing utensil resting on top of it. When they found this, he wanted them to know just how much of a deviant he was. Writing utensil and all.

Standing up straighter, he straightened his lab coat-  _ his perfect, and beautiful coat _ . He'd considered leaving it home, but here, in this town, it is his own. Carlos the Scientist without a lab coat is just…. Carlos. And he didn't want to be Carlos at the moment.

Stepping up to the ledge, he noticed how he was standing on a sort of overhang to the canyon. Rather than being able to see the other side through the dust, the bottom seemed a black pit, with no bottom in sight. For a brief moment he considered a different place, a different time, one where death was more certain.

But that would change the conditions of his hypothesis, and so he stood his ground.

Taking a deep breath- through his mouth, because his nose was congested from crying, both from grief and shock. He doubted he'd fully surpassed the shock phase, and he didn't plan on being alive when the grief phase rolled around.

Tweaking his glasses, he looked at the sky. It was sunset. If he were in Old Town Night Vale, he would surely hear the screams of the sun as he fell. But no- it is silent in Radon Canyon today. The world is warm, but it is cold- as if Night Vale does not want him to go, but does not want to force him to stay. The cold chilled him to his bones- the world itself felt devastated. Despite that, the warm was so loving, such a familiar embrace from a town where familiarity is few and far between, a farewell from a family who is sad to see you go but unwilling to keep you here.

“Thank you,” he murmured, and the words washed away in the dusty air. The wind swirled around his body, whipping his hair-  _ his hair is perfect. We all hate, and despair, and love that perfect hair in equal measure- _  this way and that. He smiled-  _ he grinned, and everything about him was perfect-  _ appreciation for a town which was not his hometown but was undoubtedly his home washing through him. This smile would be his last, and he would be sure of it.

A choked sob forced its way up into his chest, a low keening sound escaping his mouth-  _ teeth like a military cemetery- _ but he continued on. Carlos is a scientist, after all-  _ he says he is a scientist-  _ and this is what scientists do.

_ Commencement of procedure in three- _

He set his jaw-  _ he has a square jaw. _

_ Two- _

Time seemed to slow-  _ I feel like time always slows down when we're together, Carlos and I! _

_ One. _

He stepped forward, and he fell-  _ many things are falling, or will fall, or have fallen. But temporary triumph is still triumph. _

_ Conclusion: gravity in Night Vale is behaving as normal. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this,, I had an idea and I had to hurt the public. Idk what the back story for this is, but whatever. Who needs a coherent context when you've got needless angst, am I right?  
> Anyways, have a rad day friends!


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